Through the opening on the deck
one sees the levers of the ship’s engine
moving up and down, back and forth, milling
through oil, lubricants, steam and what not.
One part of the machinery grabs the other lulling it.
They communicate like pictures for the blind.
It’s hard to believe they can help each other in any way.
Or set anything really in motion. For there close
to the bottom, everything begins, ends and annuls itself.
Nevertheless, a casual observer who from his window
watches the ship gliding effortlessly into the harbour
abandoning its trail as it moves along, can feel his heart race a little
and a thought of death, if it appears at all,
is lighter, quieter and closer to an ordinary thought.
Translated from the Croatian by Damir Šodan